Free Drink Down the Moon by Charles DeLint

taken on a host of giants, bogans and other Unseelie folk.
    “We should go,” Kate said.
    Jacky nodded. “We’ll be in touch. If you hear from Finn, could you ask him to come to the Tower?”
    Hay nodded. “If you need any help
    “
    “We’ll let you know,” Kate said before Jacky could speak.
    Jacky “waited until they were outside again and making their way back to their bikes before saying anything.
    “Why didn’t you want to take him up on his offer of help?” she asked.
    “Oh, think for a moment,” Kate replied. “The Laird’s gone and while Hay means well, what’s he going to do on his own? The only ones left behind are those too weak to make the trip to Toronto— and of course a few foresters to patrol the borderlands. If and when we know something, then we can ask them for help— or we can ask the foresters, at least. But until then, they’ll just get in our way.”
    “Lovely. And in the meantime, we’re going to take this thing on by ourselves?”
    “Don’t be silly. We’re going to go through the Gruagagh’s books and find out just what it is that we’re up against. Then we’ll call in the cavalry.”
    “I suppose. I’d like to talk to some of these fiaina— see what they know. Do you think Finn could introduce us to any?”
    “It won’t hurt to ask.” Kate shot her a quick look. “This time we’ve got to use another of the stones— you do know that.”
    “To do what?”
    “Index all those books!”
    “We’ll need to think that through carefully. I don’t feel like walking around looking like a mobile file card system, or changing the Tower into a computer or something. Anything’s liable to happen.”
    “We did okay learning the language.”
    “Yes, but— shit.”
    They’d reached their bikes and were unlocking them when Jacky froze. Kate didn’t say anything. Taking her cue from her companion, she followed Kate’s gaze. The black dog was back, sitting on its haunches not a half-block from where they stood.
    “Jacky?” Kate began.
    Jacky shook her head. “I’m not even wearing my stitched shoes.”
    They each had a jacket and a pair of shoes into which Dunrobin Finn had stitched a skillyman hob’s enchantments. The jackets made the wearer invisible to mortals— and to faerie as well, if you stayed very still. The shoes gave you quickness. They were both wearing their jackets, but not the shoes.
    “If it comes towards us I’m going to scream,” Kate muttered.
    The black dog chose that moment to rise to its feet and move in their direction.
    “Jacky!”
    “I’m thinking, I’m thinking.”
    Fingers fumbling, Jacky continued to work on her bike lock. When the lock sprang open, she stuffed it into her pocket and tugged the chain free. She felt like a bad actor in some biker B-movie, but the weight of the chain in her hands was far more comforting than facing the dog empty-handed.
    The beast continued its approach, a low rumble of a growl starting up deep in its chest. The hackles around its neck rose thickly. It drew back its lips, showing sharp rows of teeth that made Jacky’s knees knock against each other. Her throat was dry and felt like sandpaper when she tried to swallow.
    About three yards from them, the dog crouched down. By now its growl was like the constant revving of an engine without a muffler. Still feeling weak-kneed, Jacky took a step towards the beast, the chain held awkwardly in her hands. The chain was cold iron— not much good against urban faerie who had grown so accustomed to its sting that it no longer hurt them, but still a powerful enough weapon against those creatures that hadn’t yet acquired an immunity to it. If she was lucky, the dog was one of the latter.
    She could see it tense, getting ready to lunge. She stared into its eyes, then remembered someone had once told her something about not trying to stare down a dog, it just made them madder. She didn’t need monstrous Fido here any madder, but she couldn’t look away.
    “Get on